


(Mostly) BBS Drabbles

by MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange



Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: (when i said i've written too much for this fandom i was not exaggerating), M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mild Angst, Mostly Fluff, Multi, Protests, Skateboarding, Suggestive language, Superheroes, a surprising amount of hurt/comfort, all drabbles, all of these were part of follower milestones on my tumblr hence the sheer variety, but it's mostly bbs, face reveals of sorts, hanahaki, i still have two left from the last batch of requests and i feel bad for not doing them yet, i'll upload these over a period of time so i don't spam y'all, i've written too much for this fandom help me, injuries, nervous asking out of crushes, part of the fic movement, scrapbooking is a cute way to ask someone to marry you fight me on this, some of the requests they sent me were really difficult ngl, suburbia is a teenage hell, there's some derp crew in here as well, this thing is gonna have like thirty drabbles by the end whoops
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-17 18:27:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange/pseuds/MedicalAssisstanceSpareChange
Summary: A collection of drabbles I did for a few follower milestones on tumblr!





	1. "You Tried, You Failed, Let's Go to Bed" (Smiinicat)

“Come on, guys, just one more time!” Smitty clung to the computer chair as Mini tried to drag him away.

Behind him, Tyler grunted. “You tried, you failed, let’s go to bed.”

At that, Mini let go of the chair, not noticing as Smitty instantly scooted back towards the computer. “Tyler, it’s 2 pm.” A few quiet clicks and it was ready- or so Smitty hoped.

Tyler’s voice continued, out of sight. “So? I’m tired, I wanna nap.” An extra layer of grumpiness laced his voice. “I wanna snuggle up with my fucking boyfriends and sleep all day. It’s a fucking Saturday, we don’t have to do anything.”

“You’re such a lazy fucker,” Mini said, but there was no malice in the words. Smitty was sure that if he turned around, Mini would be leaning against Tyler’s chest, head tucked under the taller man’s chin. “Smitty, c’mon, babe.”

It would be so simple to open the email and quickly show them the plans he’d made… but instead Smitty spun around in his chair, biting his lip as he looked at his two boyfriends. “Okay,” he said softly, and Mini reached forwards to pull him up, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before Tyler dragged them both out of the office and into the bedroom.

Smitty couldn’t help but laugh as Mini picked him up and spun him around before dropping him on the mattress, the youngest boy rolling to the far side as Mini sat on the edge. Tyler collapsed between them with a sigh, both arms shooting out to draw his boyfriends close to him. In a matter of minutes, all three of them had faded into a peaceful sleep, the trip Smitty had planned dancing along the edges of his mind as he dreamed.


	2. "Homecooked" (Minicat)

“Babe.” There was a slight giggle in Mini’s voice to offset the glare he gave Tyler. “If you take one more bite of pasta I swear- you fucker!”

Tyler laughed through his mouthful of food as he grinned at his playfully irate boyfriend, stomach growling for more as he swallowed before speaking. “Not my fault you cook so well, Craig.” Keeping his eyes glued to Mini’s slightly flushed face, his hand snuck back towards the bowl of pasta.

He yelped as the spoon Mini held snapped down on the back of his hand. Mini raised an eyebrow as he went back to stirring, ignoring the pout on Wildcat’s face as he rubbed the slightly stinging spot on his hand. “Not my fault you forgot to order pizza and that’s why you’re so hungry.”

“Hey, I didn’t forget, I just ended up not having the money,” Wildcat protested. “I didn’t expect that one bill to go through today is all. Not my fault.”

Mini sighed, steam from his sauce fogging up his glasses. “I know, but you could’ve asked me to pay for it,” he replied as he stepped back from the sauce. Wildcat wrapped an arm around him as he leaned against his chest, pressing a few quick kisses to Mini’s hair and forehead. “Not that I mind cooking for you, y’know.”

“I know. You’re amazing, you know that? Thank you for cooking. I promise I’ll get something nice next time.”

Mini laughed at that, tilting his head back to look up at Wildcat. “You don’t have to do that, babe.”

“Oh, I think you’ll want me to.”

Another eyebrow raise from Mini made Wildcat snicker. “And why is tha-  _Tyler!”_

The handful of pasta was gone before Mini could protest more, and Tyler’s giggles were unceasing as Mini huffed and moved back towards the stove, grumbling about “filthy thieves” as he finished making dinner and kept an eye on Tyler’s sneaky hands.


	3. Sick Boy (Krii7Y)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kryoz and Smitty are about to take the "peaceful" out of "peaceful protest."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was probably the hardest drabble to write for me... I'd never heard the song ("Sick Boy" by The Chainsmokers) and then I think I wrote this really, really late too... anyways I hope you enjoy it regardless!

“Fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise.”

They glared at each other across the hall, each seated on the ground in a crowd of the detained. Outside, they could hear the protest-turned-riot continuing, but for the moment their heated, angry gazes were focused on each other, taking in every detail like enemies.

The different color schemes- Smitty in white, John in black. Long white hair framing a round face, short dark hair mussed atop a square one. The only thing that matched, it seemed, were their scowls.

“Where you at these days?” John asked, seeming indifferent to the fact that one of his oldest rivals had showed up for the opposite side of the riot. That one of his old friends had done so.

“East side of America,” Smitty shrugged. “You?”

“West.”

Smitty laughed. “I’m not surprised. Still spinning lies into fairy dust like you always did?”

“At least I have more depth to myself than my pride,” John snapped, anger flaring in his eyes, moving towards Smitty in as threatening a manner as he could while remaining seated on the floor.

“Shut up!” a policeman shouted from down the hall, and a wave of tension and stillness swept down the corridor. Still leaned towards Smitty, John stayed frozen, their eyes locked but the anger fading.

“You look different up close,” John said curiously. And it was true; he looked more like Smitty, less like the people John had been about to fight outside.

Smitty frowned, confusion flooding his face. But before he could speak, another member of the riot police stomped towards them, kicking people out of the way as he approached with no mind for whose side they were on. “Shut up, sick boy,” he ordered.

John’s jaw tightened, and Smitty’s eyes narrowed, their eyes locked on each other.

 _Sick boy,_  he’d called them. And all either side had wanted was fairness. That wasn’t sick. They’d been pitted against each other, made to ruin each other.

“This is on us,” John whispered, to the rising irritation of the officer.

Smitty laughed, then, and John smiled. “Nah, John. This is us.”

“Stand up, both of you,” the officer ordered. Sharing a glance, they shrugged and did so, casually, indifferently.

And then they yelled in sync and took the officer down, and the hall erupted into chaos again.


	4. Skateboarding (Krii7Y)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Smitty gets hurt while skateboarding, but John's there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My updates for this are legit just me going down my masterpost so that's the only rhyme or reason to how I'm choosing what chapter comes next

The wail that rose up from the other side of the ramp wasn’t something Kryoz expected to hear.  In fact, it startled him so much that he fell off his own skateboard, smacking his elbows and chin into the ground as his board gently rolled away.

He could feel the sting of a fresh cut on his right arm as he pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the mild pain. “Smitty!” he yelled, stumbling around to the ramp he and his boyfriend had just rocketed up.

A part of him sagged in relief when he saw the pale boy sitting on the ground, skateboard nowhere to be seen. He was crying, and as Kryoz rushed forwards he caught sight of the way Smitty was cradling his right arm, curled around it but not coming close to actually touching it.

“Smitty?” John knelt in front of him, brushing his hair out of his face in a comforting motion.

“John, I- my  _arm_ -“ Smitty tried to calm himself in desperate gasps, unable to rip his gaze away from the bright red swelling that was slowly taking over his entire forearm. “I think I broke it.”

“Definitely looks that way. Can you stand?” he asked quietly. After a long moment, Smitty gave a shaky nod, and John helped pull him upright. “C’mon, babe. Let’s get you to the hospital.”

John kept a comforting arm wrapped around Smitty’s waist the whole walk there, telling him stupid jokes and giving him quick kisses to distract him from the pain. And by the time the emergency room entrance came into view, Smitty was calm once more- with John by his side, he never had anything to worry about.


	5. Superhero and the (Perverted) Villain (H2OVanoss)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was by far the most difficult drabble to write, I was highkey embarrassed to post this.

“You let him get away?!”

Evan buried his face in his hands, groaning and trying to hide his blush. “Shut UP, Smitty.”

“What the absolute fuck!” his fellow Canadian superhero cried, throwing his arms up dramatically. “We finally had a chance to capture the most dangerous criminal in the city, possibly in the state, and you  _let him go?!”_

 _“_ Shut up!” Evan yelled, lifting his head to stare at the sky. His hands could still feel Delirious’s throat under them, the vibrations from his laughter and the way he’d gasped before catching Evan’s eyes and saying…  _that_.

“What did he say?”

“What?”

Smitty plopped down on the ground, now sitting directly across from Evan. His mismatched gaze threw Evan off balance as he said, “What did Delirious say to you to let him go? I know you, you wouldn’t have killed him, you would have caught him unless he convinced you otherwise. So what did he say?”

Those eyes, the melody of Smitty’s voice… sometimes Evan hated having a hypnotist as a partner-in-justice. 

Well, at least he could make Smitty regret using his powers. The words were spilling out anyways, making him flush again.

“He said ‘go on, I like it when you wrap your hands around me and squeeze- it feels so good.’“

Evan could feel the moment the hypnotist let go of his mind, but the damage was already done.

“I’m scarred for life,” Smitty mumbled, looking genuinely queasy at the thought of a villain flirting with him like that. Evan just buried his face in his hands again, wishing he could disappear and scrub the past two hours from his memory.

Next time, he’d just tase the motherfucker.


	6. I'm Nervous About Asking You Out (Terrornuckle)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the first drabbles, and honestly still one of my favorites.

“Brian, I have absolutely no idea what you’re trying to say to me.”

Five thousand miles away, the Irishman groaned and bumped his head on his desk. Why was this all so  _hard_? Why couldn’t he just ask Brock on a date, with  _words_  like a  _normal_  person? He used to be suave and collected, didn’t he? He remembered teasing Mini with a promise of a kiss, flustering Nogla by attacking him with a massive hug. He could do that kind of shit with anyone.

But this was Moo, and Moo was more than just anyone. 

“I-” Brian tried again, closing his eyes as if it would help at all.  _Four words, Brian. That’s all you need to say_.  _Wait, is it more than four?_

From across the Atlantic and most of a continent, Brian heard Brock sigh. “Look, Brian, I need to leave the house in, like, fifteen minutes. I hate to rush you but I gotta-”

“I really like you,” Brian suddenly blurted, and both sides of the call fell silent.

“What?” “I mean-” Both of them started to speak at the same time, and then silence reigned again. Brian couldn’t remember the last time his face was this red; the fact that Moo wasn’t actually there didn’t console him in the slightest. 

And then, just as he was convinced the call had somehow died or he’d fucked up beyond belief, he heard a giggle.

“Was this whole thing you trying to ask me out?” Brock’s voice was soft and shy, but he sounded elated. It sent Brian’s heart rocketing, his whole body sitting a bit straighter as hopeful joy spread through him.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “If you’re willing, that is.”

Again, a giggle, one that tugged his lips up into a delighted smile. “I’d love to, Brian.”


	7. Escape From Suburbia (Vancat)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was for the wonderful queenofokay, and it's probably the longest drabble I have.

In some ways, Evan’s room was cleaner than it had ever been- drawers emptied, bookcase neatly organized, his bed made as if it were on display in a shop. If he was successful, it would stay that way forever.

But then there was the half-full duffel on the floor, the pile of clothes on the bed, and the mess of papers on his desk that he hadn’t gotten around to tossing out yet. He sighed as he stuffed the last of his clothes into the duffel, debating with himself for a moment before walking over to the bookshelf and grabbing his two favorites. He’d need them for the long rides; maybe he could read them to Tyler, as they drove out towards their new future in Tyler’s shitty-but-sturdy pickup truck.

Duffel in hand, he moved out into the hallway of the empty suburban house, not caring to be quiet as he gathered up his toiletries. His parents were never home anymore, and he didn’t know or care to know what it was they did instead of being proper parents, but he did know that it meant he wouldn’t be discovered as missing until he was far, far away.

Extra shoes. Check. Wad of cash from the hidden compartment in the kitchen drawer. Check. Toothbrush. Check. 

Without a last look around the house, Evan walked out the front door, locked it, and tossed the key in the trash. It would have a better home there than he’d ever had in this neighborhood, where the only good thing in his life was Tyler, and vice versa. They were two juniors in high school with their heads in the clouds and bruises on their knuckles and fire in their souls, and a month ago they’d hatched this plan to set themselves free.

The ten-minute walk to Tyler’s house (the lights were off and all was silent, thank god Tyler’s parents weren’t being assholes again) seemed shorter than usual, even with the heavy duffel in Evan’s arms and the backpack weighing his shoulders. He decided it must be the excitement thrilling through him at the thought of finally getting away, getting out of the cookie-cutter houses that spat out cookie-cutter people.

He and Tyler- and there was his best friend (and more, if things went well), sitting on the hood of his truck with a smile- were different, and they were going to stay that way.

“Hey,” Tyler whispered, placing Evan’s duffel and backpack in the backseat alongside his own before pulling the Asian teen into a hug. “You ready?”

“Always have been,” Evan murmured into Tyler’s chest, frowning as he traced the new bruise on Tyler’s cheek before pulling away to climb into the passenger seat. Tyler flashed a grin at him as he reached for the ignition, even more gorgeous than normal in the darkness with the streetlight reflecting off his eyes and teeth. 

The engine was loud in the four a.m. quietness of the suburbia, but after a tense moment where no lights came on, no one yelled, and no one chased them, they were easing down the road. As their speed increased, so did their elation, and despite not knowing what would happen next they found they didn’t care.

As the sun rose, their fingers linked together over the center console, and a happy smile settled into place on Evan’s face.


	8. "Till Death Do Us Part" (Terrorknuckel)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I was asked for a hanahaki-based terrorknuckel fic. I wrote this cheesy fuckin' thing as a result. In which Brock asks the ultimate question with a scrapbook full of memories and flowers.

“What’s this?” Brian gave a confused grin to his boyfriend, who looked… almost nervous as he held out the unexpected present. It didn’t look like much- a photo album of some kind, wrapped in a single red ribbon- but Brock looked like he was ready to bolt for the hills.

“It’s…” he shook his head and trailed off, thrusting the book forwards. “Just- you’ll see.”

“Alright.” Bemused, Brian took the book and pulled the ribbon off, flipping to the first page.

What he saw made his heart stop for a second. The daffodil flowers, preserved perfectly against the page, was still flecked with blood. His blood, he knew; he’d been coughing up those damn petals for two months. The meanings were written in careful ink below it- unrequited love (ha), beauty, good luck; a single one meant misfortune, and a cluster meant joy.

He tore his eyes away from the red-speckled petals to look at the opposite page, where a large red flower was pressed across the paper. Although it was harder to notice, there was blood on those petals as well- Brock’s. The writing below read “ _Amaryllis was a shy nymph who loved a man with Hercules’s strength and Apollo’s looks. He would not love her until she found him a flower never seen before, so she pierced her heart with a golden arrow at his doorstep until the amaryllis flower, killing herself in the process.”_

 _“_ Brock.” Brian’s voice was rough from shock and hardened by the memories of the two most painful months of his life, three long years ago. He didn’t want to remember how he’d suffered for weeks before hearing Brock was unconscious in the hospital, how Brian had woken him up with a quiet confession before nearly dying of his own blossoms. He didn’t want to remember how stupid he’d been “What is this?”

“Turn the page.”

The next few pages had pictures of their relationship, and then they went blank. On the back of the very last page was a little letter in Brock’s illegible handwriting, and a small pocket sewn onto the back cover. It was pretty obvious to Brian that it was a ring.

“Brock?” Brian said again, this time filled with a different emotion. “What…”

Brock grinned nervously as he took the book from Brian, fishing out the ring and getting down on one knee. “I know you can’t read what I write, so…” He cleared his throat and read from the page.

_“Brian,_

_“I know you don’t like remembering what happened to us right before we got together. I know it’s hard; it is for me too. But I want to remember those times- I want us to be able to look at what almost killed us and remember that we overcame it together._

_“And we wouldn’t have done it without each other. The past three years, as I tried to show with those pictures, have been the absolute best of my life, and I’ve known for a while now I want to spend the rest of them with you. Nothing, not friends or shyness or any stupid flower disease, could stop me from loving you.”_

_“_ Is this-” Brian let out a sob of laughter as Brock held up the ring. “Oh my god.”

“Marry me?” Brock said, and Brian nodded furiously before pulling Brock into a kiss. Brock smiled against his lips as he slipped the ring on Brian’s finger, and Brian knew that he’d suffer flowers in his lungs a hundred times over to feel the happiness of that moment again.


	9. "The First Time Seeing His Eyes" (Moohm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Moo finally sees Ryan without the blindfold. (I know I just posted a very similar fic but this one is unrelated, I swear. Also I just counted and I still have seventeen drabbles left to post... h e l p)

“Wha-” the word changed into a nervous chuckle, hands fidgeting at the hem of his shirt. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely,” Ohm replied, grabbing those anxious hands with his own. Through the blindfold, he saw Moo’s expression change to shocked excitement as their hands lifted towards Ohm’s face. “I should’ve done this ages ago.”

Moo paused, his fingers on the knot at the back of Ohm’s head. “Hey, don’t be like that,” he said. “You don’t have to do this at all, you know.”

Ohm laughed. “Nah, but I want to. Go on,” he urged, “it’s okay.”

With a shaky nod, Moo picked at the knot, slowly unraveling the gray fabric. Ohm blinked as the cloth slid down his cheeks, sighing happily as his eyelashes were freed and rubbing the faint marks on the side of his face where the blindfold liked to dig into his skin.

“Wow,” Moo breathed, and Ohm looked at him with a shy grin. His boyfriend looked as stunned as the first time they’d kissed, his beautiful eyes blown wide as he stared at Ohm’s own. “Ohm, you’re gorgeous.”

He laughed at that, enjoying the way Moo smiled in delight as he watched Ohm’s face, no longer hidden behind the blindfold he’d tucked into his pocket. And when Moo, grinning widely, leaned forwards to gently kiss his eyelids, happiness flooded through him, and Ohm wondered why he hadn’t done this much, much sooner.


End file.
